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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:00:09 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 27990
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Candle
[time] => 2003-11-26 11:31:05
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I hear the noise. Hear it pulsing,writhing, coarsing. Living. The rage the anger and the bitter bile. I can feel in drag me down. Pulling me into the fiery hell, a blasting inferno roasting my soul, a hell created by my own sick perversions. Or the perversions of others. I am slaughtered. My innocence has been butchered. Cut up and sold to the cynical, the ones who take pleasure in the flesh. They all want a piece. Want me to be there, to be cold comfort. Want to drain me and transfigure me. Turn me into them. I cry. And I cry. And I am dust. Another victim. Another nice guy. Left alone. Another light burning out in a dark world. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 329 [topic] => 6 [informant] => CodyJ [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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